


Heir

by Nieri_is_a_cat



Series: The Italy-verse [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Also Shigure Kintoki has some sort of a mind of its own, I also don't know why I came up with this, I really don't know how to tag, I'm also going without a beta, and also his mother, mentioned Hibari Kyoya, so if you see mistakes tell me pls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 12:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20564498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nieri_is_a_cat/pseuds/Nieri_is_a_cat
Summary: It’s not his right to decide who wields the sword, but it's his right to decided wheter to let him or not.Takeshi is special, Tsuyoshi has always known, and somehow Shigure Kintoki does too.5 + 1 where I suck at summaries, but people who've read it in a "preview" told me it's good. Enojy :)





	Heir

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know how I came up with this, but most of the credit goes to Night-Mare (Aoife) and various of her fanfics (go read 'em because they're really good!!).   
Basically it's a universe I came up with and I'm not even sure where I'm leading it, but for now I have three fics ready and started the fourth (which ties up with another collection I want to start focused on the relationship between Lavina and Shamal)
> 
> I do not own the characters, unfortunately. If I did I'd have the Varia swaring like sailors and Dino's surname wouldn't be Cavallone (which is a pretty embarassing surname in italian. Also Vongola is ridiculous. It means clams. Like, really? The most feared Mafia family is named after clams? Giotto, I expected better from you...). Also Gokudera'd have an italian name and surname, same goes for Bianchi, Oregano and all the italians character in the manga/anime which are named after herbs.

1

Takeshi was looking at the sword. Shigure Kintoki glowed in the dim light of the dojo and it was like it was calling for him, calling for him, calling for him. It was his father’s presence and the fact that he was holding the sword, that stopped him from running to it and just _feel_.

Dad had told him the name of the sword last year, not much after Mom’s death, because he had noticed he was staring at it.

Takeshi looked up at his father and, after a sharp nod, he turned and went out of the dojo. He was four and a half, and maybe Dad was right when he said he was still too little to understand the things he did, but the sword. The sword was calling his name and he hadn’t told Dad. The sword was calling his name and he wanted to talk to it so badly, so badly.

He never did.

2

He was alone in the dojo. Alone but not alone, because Shigure Kintoki was placed in front of him and he was currently caressing the sharp blade with his index. Dad didn't know he had taken it, and Takeshi planned never to tell him because he was pretty sure Dad wouldn't appreciate the fact he had taken it without permission.

He couldn’t help himself with it. Shigure Kintoki was still calling for him, day and night. It plagued his dreams, it whispered in his ears through the wind and murmured his name in sync with Dad. Takeshi had taken it out of sheer curiosity. He wanted to know why it was calling his name, why didn’t it call Dad. He was curious.

The blade glowed in the dying afternoon light when he went back to the restaurant. It hadn’t talked, and he was disappointed, but after he was one step out of the dojo, he heard something.

_Takeshi_.

He had looked around to see if there was someone calling for him. There was no one in sight.

_Takeshi_.

He looked down at the sword in his hands.

_Takeshi_.

He smiled on his way home. Next day he asked Dad if he could learn the sword, if he could learn kendo. He was five.

3

Learning is hard, Dad had said, but Takeshi found it disarmingly easy. Dad was as surprised as he was, but hadn’t batted an eye at his learning skills. Instead, he had given him a bamboo sword and had started fighting with him.

Takeshi found it exhilarating: every time he and Dad sparred he wanted to laugh. And sometimes he did, in the middle of a fight he burst out laughing and Dad had to stop in the midst of an attack. Takeshi couldn’t help himself, the feeling was so- so _joyful_ and he just had to express his joy.

And every time he watched Dad explain him a new stance, Shigure Kintoki in his hands and a severe light in his eyes, Takeshi felt the sword poking at him. Not physically, that was impossible, but it did. And he could feel the hope it had that one day he’ll wield it.

4

When he was six, three months and twenty-five days old, some bad people barged into the restaurant at closing hour. They were dressed all black, and some had guns. Dad ordered him to go hide, and he did, but still close enough to be of help.

Behind the counter was acceptable for him to hide, maybe not for Dad, but for him it was. There was a little hole in the wooden wall of the counter, hidden by plates and flatware, and he started spying from there. Dad had Shigure Kintoki in his hands and a serious expression. No, not serious, it was- it was… it was like- no, he _wanted_ to kill the black men. Takeshi could _feel_ the intention his father had. He could feel it round and clear and it was terrifying. It was an endless stream of killing, killing, killing and don’t touch him, don’t touch him, don’t touch him. And yeah, it was terrifying, but he could understand _why_ and he could feel Shigure Kintoki absorbing it all and he instantly _knew_.

Dad made a good work of them. Takeshi didn’t tell him he saw everything, felt everything, and Dad didn’t tell if he knew he’d stayed there. They never talked about that again

5

When Takeshi was seven he’d been able to knock the sword out of Dad’s hands. It was around half seven and he’d been trying all afternoon to get that sword out of his hands, and finally, at last, he did it.

Dad was staring at him, contemplatively staring at him. Then he had given him a true sword and had asked him if he knew how to use the flames. He knew. Not in a logical way, no one had taught him, not even Kyoya (even if he knew he was dying to do it, but he already had the new neighbour to take care of, so he hadn’t really the time), but he _knew_. It was instinctual, like a deep part of him already knew and could use them properly. Takeshi didn't tell Dad so, he just told him he knew, and so Dad had told him to show him, to coat the sword in flames. Takeshi did. It was easy. Blue flames covered the blade and the hilt of the sword, rolling around his wrist and his hand. It was enticing to watch.

Dad's voice brought him back to reality. He said those were Rain Flames, and Takeshi had snickered, because how can flames be rain? That was a contradiction!

He told Dad that much but didn't tell him Shigure Kintoki had already whispered in his ears the secrets of the flames, had showed him the waterfall and the sea, the sky ripped open, drowning the earth, and the soothing rain after a fire. The red tears of blood of dead people, falling to the ground like drops.

After Dad explained him about the flames, they fought again. Takeshi won again.

It was easy, now.

\+ 1

He’s dreaming Mom. She has her back turned to him, so he can’t see her face. He’s not sure he remembers her all that well, not her looks at least. Yes, there are the photo albums and the frame on the kitchen counter, but in his memories she’s always blurry. What he really remembers about her it’s the warm emotions she made him feel, the happiness when she and Dad swung him between them and when she kissed his scratched knees because “it helps healing better, Bug”. He remembers the cold when she wasn’t there anymore, remembers the thud when she fell to the ground. Remembers the salty taste of his own tears.

He still has nightmares sometimes. Dad had taken good care of the men that did that to her too.

Mom is still giving her back to him, and so he walks towards her and calls her, but she does not turn. She speaks when he stops next to her.

“Can you hear the water falling, Bug?”

He shakes his head because no, he can’t hear it. He’s not even sure there’s water in the place they are right now. At that she turns toward him. She’s smiling, and Takeshi didn’t remember her hair to be so long and her lips to be so red and her eyes to be so bright. But he remembers the warmth in them, and he remembers their vivid colour, like his own, goldish-brown. Their eyes are earthly eyes, warm and welcoming. He knows because Dad tells him a lot.

“Bug,” she says, “I know you can hear the water falling. It flows through you, like it flows through your father.”

“I don’t hear anything, Mom.” And it’s true, he doesn’t hear anything.

She sits and pats next to her, he hurries to mirror her. “I know the sword is calling to you, Bug. Can you tell me what does it say?”

He nods, “It tells me how to move, how to fight. It tells me about its previous wielders, how they fought and how they fell. It tells me about the flames, how to use them. It tells me about the rain, how it can be healing and how it can be annihilating. It also shows me things at night. It’s weird, but it feels right, because it’s calling for me and it’s-”

Mom puts a hand around his shoulders and he stops talking. “Takeshi, Bug, did the sword tell you how many wielders it had?”

It’s like she’s trying to tell him something. “Dad says they’ve been a lot. Many from our family, and that’s why we have it now. The swords says they’ve been a few.”

“And did it tell why they’ve been but just a handful?” Mom is caressing his hair, and he revels in it.

“They weren’t right. Is that why it doesn’t call for Dad?”

“Exactly, Bug.” Mom smiles and he smiles back at her.

“Hey!” It’s something he’s just thought of, and he’s curious, because every person he knows has flames. “Do you have flames too?”

Mom stills the hand in his hair and puts it in front of him, “As a matter of facts, Bug,” she says, a hint of laughter in her voice, “I do.”

Her index and her middle finger are alight with two different flames. One is indigo, and the other is purple, and he’s confused.

“Why do you have two?” he asks furrowing his brows, and then. “What are their names? Why are they of a different colour?”

“These, Bug, are Mist and Cloud flames. Your Baa-san has too, and so does your cousin, just, theirs are inverted. You have another one too, you know...”

“I know Kyoya has two because he’s teaching the new neighbour how to use the indigo flames, but I didn’t know Baa-san had two too. And I have two too?” He snuggles closer and hums contentedly while Mom returns her fingers in his scalp.

“You do, Bug. One is Rain, and you take it after your father. The other you take after me, and it’s Mist.”

“But why can’t I light up the things with it the way I do with my blue flames?”

Mom is laughing, and he pouts. It’s not funny.

“Moom!”

“Sorry, sorry, Bug!” she’s still giggling. “You can’t simply because you’re not trained to do it. Mist flames are tricky, you know. And they’re tricky not only for those who fight them, but also for those who wields them. You should ask your Baa-san to teach you, since you tell me Kyoya’s busy.”

His face lights up and he smiles, “I think I’ll do!”

Mom smiles too, but it’s a sad smile, and he looks at her with a worried frown.

“Are you okay?”

“I am, Bug. Don’t worry. It’s just that it will be dawn soon, and dreams only last so far...”

He’s not sure he understands. Why should dreams matter? They’re not in a dream, are they?

“Takeshi, sweetie, it is time for me to go and for you to return to the land of reality.” Mom stands up and helps him on his feet.

“But we’re not in a dream!” He argues. He doesn’t want this to be a dream, he doesn’t want to let go of her hand.

“I’m afraid we are, Bug. I am able to be here with you now exactly because it’s a dream, and dreams are but mere illusions, in the end.” Mom leans in and kisses his forehead and Takeshi understands this is a farewell.

“I don’t want you to go!”

“It’s the natural course of things, Bug, we can’t do nothing about this: you’ll soon be awake and I’ll soon stop have this solid form.”

“But-”

“It’s time, Takeshi. Tell your father I say hi, and remember that I’ll always be there for both of you even if you won’t see me. Okay, Bug?”

His eyes are full of tears, but he nods and speaks with a broken voice. “Okay.”

Mom is about to say something else, but then he’s suddenly jerked away from the place and she’s not there anymore and he opens his eyes and he’s in his room. When Dad comes to wake him, he finds him crying.


End file.
